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In the past three or four months I have been convinced from what 1 have seen that the quality of
prime importance to both the painter ‘and the draughtsman is his ability to appreciate and express plastic
form—that is, form aside from having any so-called “art qualities” must function or be workable—the
head as a solid lump should sit and articulate on the neck column, which in turn fits into the shoulders,
etc., not so much automatically as architecturally or (if I may use the word again) functionally—or to
work in a convincing manner without relying on accident or sketch-like effects—and then finally to infuse
into all this a fine proportion, movement or relationship, which is of course the big point or the hard
point. It is a classical approach and some good examples are Egyptian and Greek sculptures, Michael
‘Angelo, Botticelli, Tintorette, Ingres, Renoir and Seurat. In my quest for form I have found myself in
quest for teachers with similar sympathies. Gertler was one, but he teaches only one day a week, the
Central school is more or less out on that score so 1 went to Ozenfants on the advice of an Australian who
has thoughts like mine. There I found a small group of students (16) more advanced than usual, turning
out excellent drawings.

1 do nothing but draw here—one drawing may take from two weeks to a month to work out—
we use large sheets of rough Watman’s paper and a variety of hard and soft carbon pencils—we start on
one part of the figure—slowly, constructing, designing and finishing each part as we go—each part must
be exact, simple and clearly readable—we get our tones and textures by either shading with the pencil
on the rough paper or by stippling. As you perhaps know Ozenfant was the originator of Purism, so that
his teaching is in every way exact. He says we must know clearly in our minds what we want to do on
paper—any sort of confusion in our drawing irks him. 1 have no ambition to become a purist, but think
it is @ fine discipline, especially in this era of paint splashing.

If you saw Oxzenfant you would be struck by his lean, hawk-like appearance and his wit. He runs
his academy in the French way. We start at 10 and work until about 12.30, when in he comes for “correc-
tions? That means we trail behind him from easel to easel listening to what he has to say about each
drawing; this lasts sometimes an hour, after which we have our lunch around a table in the studio with
the master at the head, sharing his wisdom and red wine. He is a complete art encyclopedia, historically
and technically. He seems to know everyone in Paris and minces no terms saying just what he thinks
about them. But now (and sadly) be has left us for Seattle after (for me) just a month of purism. So
now we are working as a group with a visit once or twice a week from Henry Moore, sculptor, who appears
very sound and certainly a very likeable: young man.

Let me also mention that one of my fellow students at this school is none other than Russell Flint’s
brother, age sixty, who travels all the way from Canterbury every morning. ‘

In the class the instructor student relationship is rather impersonal unless the student makes a
point of going after the teacher and showing some real interest. I have questioned Meninsky, Gertler,
Jamieson, Oxenfant and Moore on this subject and they are all in agreement that the student’s first job
is to develop the ability to express form—to be able to put the figure together “as a steam engine is put
together,” to quote Meninsky, and then to acquire or develop an appreciation of proportion and design.

I hope that all this does not sound too much like “How to teach in three easy lessons.” I have
not meant it so—it is only my synopsis of how the artistic cat is skinned in the schools I have fallen in
with. As we all know, there is more than one way to skin that old critter, yea man. As for Paris, we
hope to blush forth with the flowers there about the middle of April. —And if one asks you again
what the Binnings are doing—just say—having the time of their lives. BERT.

A London letter from Mr. B. C. Binning, a member of the school staff, who is studying there at
present. Mr. and Mrs. Binning will travel and study in France and Italy before Mr. Binning returns to
take up his duties next term.

ART SCHOOL WITS FEATURED IN INTERNATIONAL TOURNAMENT ~

Van Gogh in a moment of pique
Cut an ear off before you could speak
This is simple indictment
of an artist’s excitement
Must stand as a gesture unique.
—Hitler Memorial Award for

Degenerate Art. Said Rubens to Mr. da Vinci

“This art game is not any cinch. We
Must take what we can
As a model of man,

But I like a fat more than a thin she.”

—Grand Prix d’ltalie.